


drunk (in love)

by Kendal_Lynne



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Angst, Drunk!Ian, Fluff, I'm terrible at tagging, M/M, Platonic Kissing, Smut, Swearing, Underage Drinking, it's kind of all over the place, mickey being a little jealous thug, offensive slurs, there will be explicit content later on
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-01
Updated: 2017-01-16
Packaged: 2018-02-15 16:27:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 8
Words: 8,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2235699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kendal_Lynne/pseuds/Kendal_Lynne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set vaguely in Season 2. Mickey walks in on Ian and Mandy making out. It’s all downhill from there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Another fic set vaguely in season 2? Are you even surprised? This was gonna be a one shot, but it's not finished yet & I'm impatient.

One Saturday night, Mickey walks into his house and sees one of the most disturbing images possible: Mandy straddling Ian on the couch. And they’re making out. With each other.

They can’t stop laughing and they’re clearly drunk (if the empty bottles of beer knocked over on the coffee table is anything to go by) but that doesn’t stop their lips from smacking together over and over again.

Mickey tries to ignore the horrible stomach ache that hits him like a tidal wave in that moment. Musta eaten something weird.

“Jesus, do you fucking mind?” Mickey asks, slamming the door behind him.

Mandy turns around and glares at him. 

“Fuck off, I can make out with my boyfriend whenever I want” she tells him. 

Her lips are shiny and her cheeks are flushed. Mickey can’t bring himself to spare a glance at Ian.

“Do you have to do that shit on the couch? We eat more meals there than we do at the table” he says, kicking off his shoes and violently ripping off his sweatshirt.

“We’re watching a movie, duh” Mandy asks with an eye-roll.

“Whatever, I don’t really give a fuck” Mickey says, still not making eye-contact with Ian as he moves into the kitchen.

Mickey grabs a beer from the fridge and chugs half of it as fast as he can, swiping his hand over his face when he’s done.

His hands feel clammy and when he tries to crush the can in his fist, it slips out from his grasp and scatters across the door.

Many strolls in at that very second.

“Easy, butterfingers” she mutters.

“Bitch” he throws back, wiping his hands on his dirty jeans.

“What crawled up your ass and died?” she asks, grabbing more beers from the fridge.

“Nothing. Just don’t understand why you’re making out with a fag.”

Mandy rolls her eyes. She told Mickey Ian was gay last year after she begged him to call off the ‘kill squad’ on the redhead. She explained the situation through teary-eyed panic and made him promise to keep Ian’s secret…little did she know how well Mickey was going to do just that.

“One, ‘fag’ is offensive, don’t say it. Two, friends make out all the time. It’s no big deal” she says simply.

“But why bother if you’re not having sex? I don’t get it” Mickey says.

Mandy shoots him a skeptical look.

“Um, why does anyone make out? Cause it’s fun and it feels good. Plus, not for nothing, but Ian’s an amazing kisser.”

“I didn’t need to know that” Mickey says. He really, really didn’t need to know that. 

Mandy rolls her eyes, clearly ready to drop the subject.

But Mickey has other plans.

“And so what if he is?” Mickey continues “He doesn’t like you like that. He doesn’t like any girl like that.”

“Jesus, you think?” Mandy asks, agitated. “I’m different ok? He loves me in his own way.” 

“And you love him in yours?” Mickey asks, almost accusingly.

Mandy’s eyes narrow.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“I just don’t think it’s a good idea. I don’t want you getting hurt by thinking you have a chance with him when you clearly don’t.”

Mickey feels a little ashamed as he watches his sister’s cheeks redden.

“Shut up! God, that’s not even what that was about. We were just joking around and trying to figure out who’s a better kisser. That’s it. Don’t take your sexual frustration out on me because you don’t have anyone that wants to make out with you” Mandy says, grabbing the beers and storming out. 

Mickey sighs, the nauseous feeling in his gut returning. 

Luckily, the sound of kissing is replaced with the two having a conversation instead.

He thinks about going into his room, slamming the door and blasting music to drown out the sound, but some sick part of his brain is actually curious as to what they’re talking about. 

He cracks open another beer and sips it slowly this time, inching towards the entry way of the kitchen close enough to hear them talking from the couch.

“So those are the moves you used to lock down your mystery man, huh?” Mandy asks Ian.

“I guess you could say that” Ian says. And Mickey can sense the smirk on his face from around the corner.

“Still don’t get why you can’t tell me his name” Mandy whines. Alcohol always makes her whiny.

“I told you, privacy is important to him” Ian states, before adding “But I can tell you other stuff about him.” 

Mandy claps her hands and squeals. Mickey raises his eyebrows in shock. He almost wants to barge in there and distract them so this conversation can end as fast as it starts, but before he can move…

“He’s got his own place, on the North side.”

Ok…so…Ian wasn’t talking about him. He must have found someone, this mystery guy, back when Mickey was serving his time in juvie. 

“Really? Shit, is he rich? Wait, is he married?”

Ian laughs.

“No, he’s not married. And no, he’s not rich. He makes enough money to live comfortably, but it’s not like he’s loaded.”

“What does he do?”

“Something in computer software” he tells her.

“Is the sex good?” Mandy asks him.

Mickey fidgets in his hiding spot. He hates this conversation. He thinks he might even prefer the sound of them kissing.

“Yeah, it’s fucking incredible. But that’s not even the best part about being with him.”

“What then?” 

He’s quiet for a few moments, like he’s thinking about how to phrase his next sentences best.

“He’s just really affectionate, you know? It’s not something I’m used to. And it just feels so good to be around someone like that that really wants me there. He looks me in the eye when we fuck and uses all these cute nicknames that should be corny but just makes my heart swell. We can talk about nothing for hours and never get bored of each other. He lets me wrap my arms around him when we sleep and he makes me coffee in the morning. We kiss whenever we want to and hold hands for no reason. We bicker sometimes, but in the end we always make up” he explains “It’s really really nice, Mandy.”

Mandy started cooing in response, but Mickey drowned it all out, too focused on what he just heard to process anything else.

It’s not that Mickey was shocked (ok he was a little surprised considering the puppy-dog look in his eyes the younger boy got whenever Mickey walked into the room) or that he expected Ian to remain celibate in his absence (even if he happened to be), but this news is still allowed to give him some pause, right? After all, if this kid had such a great thing going for him with some North Side prick, why the hell was Ian wasting his time by crawling back to Mickey? Why mess around with someone like him if he had something so much better waiting for him on the other side of town?

Fuck this, Mickey thinks, marching to his bedroom and slamming the door shut. If Ian really did have something better going on, he wasn’t going to try and compete with it—hell, he already knew that was a fight he couldn’t win. Ian wanted the sweet, affectionate guy…not someone like him. 

And it’s fine. It’s better even. Because the two of them never would have worked out anyway. 

Mickey blasts his stereo and throws himself on his bed facedown, determined to think about nothing else for the rest of the night.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mickey’s plan succeeds for all of twenty minutes before his bedroom door creeks open and a drunken Ian Gallagher stick his head in.

Mickey blasts his stereo and throws himself on his bed facedown, determined to think about nothing else for the rest of the night.

Mickey’s plan succeeds for all of twenty minutes before his bedroom door creeks open and a drunken Ian Gallagher stick his head in.

“Sorry, gotta piss” he announces before making his way to the bathroom.

Mickey shrugs, the picture of indifference. If he happens to run his fingers through his own greasy hair a few times to flatten errant strands, so be it. He ends up turning off the music too, since clearly any attempts to not think about Ian have been effectively squandered.

Ian comes out a minute later, a dopey grin on his face as he sits himself at the end of Mickey’s bed without invitation. He lifts Mickey’s outstretched legs up and places them in his lap.

Mickey raises his eyebrows.

“Hiya” he says to Mickey.

“Can I help you?” 

Ian’s thumb and forefinger find their way to Mickey’s bare ankle, rubbing the skin there absently. Mickey tries to focus on anything else but how good it feels.

“Whatcha doing in here by yourself?” Ian asks him.

“It’s my room. What are you doing in here?” 

“I’m sitting on your bed with you” he tells him.

Mickey rolls his eyes.

“No shit. Why?” Mickey asks.

Ian lets a grin spread over his face as he takes in Mickey’s perpetual frown.

“Cause you’re cute.”

“Fuck off” Mickey tells him, face flaming. He tries to move his legs off Ian’s lap but he won’t let him.

“Even cuter when you’re angry” the redhead tells him, pupils blown from alcohol consumption.

“We’re screwed if Mandy hears you talking like that,” Mickey tells him.

Ian shrugs, unfazed.

“Nah, she passed out ten minutes ago. It’s just me and you.”

Mickey waits for Ian to say something else or move to touch him further, but instead he leans his head back against the wall and closes his eyes.

It should be awkward, them just sitting there with Mickey’s fucking legs in Ian’s lap, but in a weird way it’s almost peaceful. He finds himself closing his eyes too, for the briefest of moments he considers falling asleep when--

“Are you relieved?” the younger boy asks.

Mickey’s eyes snap open.

“Bout what?” Mickey asks.

“That I finally found a Milkovich that wants to make out with me?”

Mickey scoffs, trying to play it off like their little display of intimacy wasn’t enough to put him in therapy for life.

“Grossed out is more like it. You’ve sucked me off with that mouth, man, I don’t want to see you slobbering all over my kid sister with it.”

Ian lets out a belly laugh.

“That is gross, oh my god.”

Mickey can’t help but feel a little bit elated at the sight of the other boy laughing, before realizing he’s still pissed at him.

“Yeah, so don’t fucking do it anymore, you hear me? You wanna make out with someone so bad, go to the North Side and quit fucking around with my kin.”

Ian scrunches up his eyebrows in confusion.

“The North Side? You mean like at gay clubs?” 

“No, the joker you were mooning to Mandy about earlier. You know, the one you’re practically in love with?” Mickey bites out.

All confusion melts from the younger boy’s face.

“You were listening?”

“It was kind of hard not to. You’re really fucking loud when you’re drunk, you know.”

Ian doesn’t respond. He looks sad all of a sudden. And it makes Mickey feel like shit, just like the last hour of his life has made him feel like shit.

Ian’s hand falls from Mickey’s ankle. That makes him feel like shit too.

“So you gonna tell me who he is or…”

Mickey doesn’t know why he was pressing it. He honestly doesn’t want to know anything more about Ian’s mystery man. Except of course for the masochistic part of his brain that does.

Ian shakes his head.

“He’s no one,” he says curtly.

“Didn’t sound like that when you were talking to Mandy.” 

“Why do you care?” Ian suddenly snaps, defensiveness dripping from his tone.

“You know what, man? Fuck you. I don’t” Mickey says, using the opportunity to snap his legs back. He pulls them into his chest and curls into them, “Get the fuck out.”

“You’re mad at me now?” Ian asks.

“I’m not mad, I just want you to leave me alone” Mickey tells him, hugging his legs tighter.

The redhead hesitates for a second before making his way towards the door. Right before he reaches the handle, he turns back around.

“He’s no one, Mick” he says.

“You already said that.”

“Because you’re not listening!” Ian insists, before adding quietly “he’s not real.” 

The room is suddenly so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

“What?” Mickey asks.

“Mandy’s always so curious about who I’m spending so much time with, and I don’t know, maybe part of her is jealous too, but since I obviously can’t tell her about you, I tell her about him.” 

“Him who? You just said he doesn’t exist.”

“Not yet. But he does. And someday I’ll find him.”

Mickey scoffs outwardly, but inside he’s having what appears to be an emotional meltdown. Mr. Computer Software Likes to Cuddle and Make Coffee is a fucking imaginary boyfriend? It was bad enough thinking Ian found someone so much better than him, but knowing he was fantasizing about some dream guy he hasn’t even met yet was somehow even worse. 

“What is this some kind of soul-mate fantasy bullshit?”

Ian immediately gets defensive, his body seizing up as if under an attack. 

“I don’t expect him to be my soul-mate, he just needs to love me” he says, before adding softly "someone has to."

Mickey’s head is still spinning and his heart is hammering away in his chest like a drum. If this were a game of chess, he’s pretty sure this is the part where Ian would say ‘checkmate’ and punch Mickey in the face because he sure as hell can’t fathom a single thing he’s supposed to say after that confession.

Ian spares a glance at Mickey and mistakes his silent freaking out for something else entirely. His posture sinks as the fight leaves his body once again.

“Please don’t make fun of me. I don’t expect you to understand” Ian tells him, gripping the door handle.

Of course he doesn’t. Because craving love is a basic human need someone as heartless as Mickey could never understand. 

He can tell Ian's a millisecond away from bolting and god help him, but he cannot let that happen right now. 

“I do” Mickey says quietly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the somewhat abrupt ending, like I said, I was originally writing this as a oneshot. I'm not sure if this will end up as 3 chapters or 4, but for now I will leave it at 3. Thanks for reading & feedback is lovely!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ian’s eyes light up and it’s scary, just like everything about Ian is scary, and Mickey finds himself backtracking without a second thought.

“I do” Mickey says quietly.

Ian’s eyes light up and it’s scary, just like everything about Ian is scary, and Mickey finds himself backtracking without a second thought.

“I mean, I get how someone like you would want something like that.” 

The younger boy deflates, nodding his head.

“It’s stupid” Ian says.

“Yeah, well, don’t beat yourself up over it. Everyone’s stupid about something” Mickey says with a shrug.

Ian finds it in himself to crack a small smile, perhaps despite himself.

“Oh yeah, what are you stupid about then?” 

Mickey takes in Ian’s flushed cheeks, his red hair longer than usual and curling at the ends. He takes in his stupid tshirt clinging to his abs, the freckles on his arms. He takes in his smile, the one he seems to save for Mickey and Mickey alone. In that moment, he sees everything so clearly and he just-- 

“You,” Mickey blurts out before adding “probably.”

“Me?” Ian asks, his stupid face lighting up again “Wait, like how?”

Mickey scoffs, cause he was just trying to make the kid feel better, maybe make him reconsider leaving, but he should have known that Ian would keep finding ways to make Mickey embarrass himself. 

He pulls at a loose thread hanging from his shirt, suddenly very interested in looking anywhere but at Ian.

“Like how I like hanging out with you, even though you do dumb things like make out with my sister and dream about getting your head blown off in the army.”

“The dream is to actually not get my head blown off, you know.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say, Sarg.” 

“And you know I’d make out with you if you’d let me” Ian says quietly.

Mickey glances up at him, unable to keep his gaze away for too long. 

Ian sways on his feet a little, though Mickey’s not sure if that’s from the alcohol consumption or because he’s debating making a move on Mickey.

“If you let me, I’d never stop” Ian tells him.

Mickey wipes his sweaty palms on his sheets, feeling like an idiot.

“That’d probably cause a few problems eventually.”

“Not if we took bathroom breaks,” Ian shoots back with a blinding grin.

Mickey flips him off, because shit, he’s cute and Mickey's seriously unequipped to deal with it right now.

Ian watches him for a few more quiet moments, like he’s waiting for Mickey to do something crazy, like pucker up, but Mickey can’t bring himself to do anything but stare back.

Then something really stupid happens. They break the silence at the same time.

“Well, I should go--” 

“--I liked that thing you were doing earlier” 

Mickey almost kicked himself. Literally, he almost stood up and kicked himself in the own ass because if that wasn’t the dumbest thing to slip out of his mouth all night. 

“What thing?” Ian asks, his face so open and honest.

“The way you were rubbing my ankle, I don’t know” Mickey tells him, feeling his face heat up with his words.

Ian’s eyes find the place on Mickey’s bed he was previously sitting on.

“I didn’t even realize I was doing that. You usually don’t like it when I touch you outside of sex.”

“Yeah, well, first time for everything, right? So get your ginger ass back over here.”

Ian hesitates for a second, like he thinks Mickey is pulling his leg, but then Mickey stretches his legs back out and wiggles his sock-covered toes a bit and it’s easily one of the top cutest things drunken Ian has ever seen. 

Ian laughs.

“You’re dumb,” he tells him as he sits back down and moves Mickey’s feet back into his lap. 

Mickey shrugs, barely paying attention to what Ian said to him cause he’s just so pleased he prevented the other boy from walking out on him. 

Ian looks down at Mickey’s feet as he starts to rub the skin right above his socks underneath his sweatpants. 

Mickey suddenly feels self-conscious under Ian’s gaze, his toes curling in his worn and dirty socks.

“Do my feet smell?” Mickey asks, breaking the silence once again.

Ian lifts a foot to his nose and breathes deep.

“Like roses” he says.

“Fuck you, I can smell them from here” Mickey says, blushing harder.

Ian shrugs.

“I don’t mind,” he tells him as his eyes roam over the rest of Mickey’s body “Really, really don’t mind” he says before his gaze finally meets his. The intent is clear on his face as the words stumble of out of his mouth.

“Wanna fuck?” 

Mickey feels a surge of arousal as half the blood in his body seems to travel directly to his dick, and yet their previously conversation has left him feeling seedy about having sex with Ian so soon. 

“Nah man, pretty sure fucking someone as wasted as you is considered a criminal offense” Mickey tells him, hating himself.

“I’m not that drunk” Ian says even as his letters slur a bit.

“Yeah, ok.”

Ian doesn’t give up.

“I can suck your dick” Ian offers.

Shit. 

“That’s basically the same thing” Mickey tells him.

Ian actually whines at that, his head lolling to the side as he pouts at Mickey.

“But I’m horny” he says.

“From what? Making out with my sister?” Mickey challenges.

“No, from rubbing your stupid ankles and smelling your stupid feet” Ian tells him, his voice dropping in a way that makes Mickey weak whether he wants to admit it or not.

They hold eye contact, knowing it’s just a matter of time before one of them makes the first move. 

Ian goes first, feeling even more brazen than usual in his booze-induced state. He lets go of Mickey’s feet as his hand slides over his own lap, palming his dick idly. 

“If you won’t let me touch you, I’m just gonna have to touch myself instead” Ian says, his movements getting more aggressive as the seconds tick on.

Mickey scrambles to figure out his moral compass on this one. If he doesn’t technically touch Ian, he can’t be accused of selfishly taking advantage of him in his current state, right?

“Would you like that, Mickey? Wanna watch me make myself feel good?” Ian asks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't hate me for ending it there! Hopefully it'll be worth the wait :) Sorry the chapters aren't very long/detailed, I tend to be a dialogue-centric writer, but hope to work up to longer chapters in later fics. Please leave your thoughts below, they make my day!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mickey allows himself the chance to get lost in the moment, watching Ian watch him. When Ian very purposefully catches his bottom lip between his teeth, Mickey knows he’s a goner.

Mickey’s pretty sure the question is rhetorical, cause he’s only human after all, but he still feels himself nodding like an idiot. 

Ian wastes no time going for his belt buckle, but the second he hears the metal click, something inside Mickey’s head does too.

“Wait, lock the door” he tells Ian, cause he sure as hell isn’t going to move.

Ian huffs out an impatient noise, but does as he’s told, only tripping once on one of Mickey’s discarded sneakers.

“Be careful, would ya?” Mickey scolds, too worried that Ian is gonna fall and crack his head open to miss the pleased smirk on the other boy’s face and he locks the bedroom door.

He turns back around to face Mickey and cocks a flirty eyebrow at him as he pulls off his tshirt off slowly. 

Mickey’s all kinds of dumbfounded as he watches Ian sway his hips back and forth right before said t-shirt hits him square in the face.

Ian laughs as Mickey shoots him an annoyed look.

“You an exotic dancer now? Gonna give me a show?” Mickey asks.

Ian shrugs. He brings his hands down to toy with his belt again, his hips still swaying to nothing.

“You look ridiculous” Mickey tells him. 

“You like it.” 

“Yeah, well, just don’t quit your day job just yet.”

He tries to play it cool, like he tries to play everything with Ian cool. But the truth was, Ian’s jerky movements and shit-eating grin were getting him harder than he’d like to admit.

“Maybe I’ll give you a real show one day” Ian says, approaching the bed with calculated steps “Big stage, flashing lights, pounding music…”

“And what? A bunch of old queens trying to grope you? Not exactly my idea of a good time” Mickey tells him.

Ian drops his jeans, steps out of them a little too gracefully for a kid his age. 

“What if it was just you?” he asks.

Mickey watches as Ian crawls back onto the bed, resuming his position facing Mickey. The younger boy spread his legs open and begins casually palming himself over his boxers.

“What if it was just us? Like this?” Ian asks again.

Mickey allows himself the chance to get lost in the moment, watching Ian watch him. When Ian very purposefully catches his bottom lip between his teeth, Mickey knows he’s a goner. 

“Guess that’s be ok” Mickey confesses quietly.

“You think about me when you touch yourself?” Ian asks.

Mickey laughs on reflex, a sort of breathy noise escaping his lips as he stalls on answering.

“I try not to think about anything” Mickey says.

“Bullshit” Ian accuses, laughing a bit himself “No one thinks about nothing or it would never go anywhere.”

Mickey doesn’t say anything, just watches, magnetized, by the confident movements of Ian’s hand.

“Like right now, I’m thinking about you. And I’m watching you. And I’m hearing your voice. And the combination of all those things is making me so hard I can barely stand it” he says, tenting in his boxers as his hand continues to tease himself.

“Then fucking do something about it” Mickey tells him.

“Admit you think about me too and I will” he challenges.

“Fine, I think about you sometimes” Mickey says “Involuntarily.”

Ian quirks an eyebrow at him as he brings his boxers down just enough to free his erection.

Mickey’s mouth starts to water as the word “want” invades all his sense.

“You’re such an ass,” Ian says before spiting into his hand and fuck if it wasn’t one of the hottest things Mickey has seen him do.

Ian reaches down to touch himself, groaning at the skin on skin contact. Mickey’s almost right there with him, so he bites his tongue hard enough to draw blood.

Him and Ian fuck. They fuck all the time. But it’s fast. So fast, in fact, they never have time for foreplay. Sometimes half a hand-job is all they can manage before they get down to it, so afraid they’ll be interrupted before they’re done. 

They’ve never taken the time to memorize each other’s bodies…hell, they’ve barely been properly acquainted. So to see Ian like this, all laid out and taking his time, well, it was really something else for Mickey.

Ian’s blown Mickey a few times but Mickey hasn’t worked up the courage to do the same yet—too afraid he wouldn’t like it, or worse, that he was bad at it.

But right now, watching Ian touch himself so sensually was making Mickey really want to try. What’s worse, it made him think he’d enjoy it—maybe too much.

“What are you thinking about right now?” Ian asks, like he’s just sitting there knitting a sweater or something.

“Nothing” Mickey tells him, trying his hardest to look away.

“Nothing huh? I guess I should stop then” Ian challenges, bringing his hand just far enough away to stop touching himself.

“Don’t” Mickey orders, almost too fast to be considered cool at all, “Keep going.”

Ian holds his hand, still hovering. He smirks at him.

“Say please?” 

“Fuck off” Mickey tells him, before adding very softly “please.”

Ian lets out a heavy exhale as he grabs himself again, jerking off in a much more determined manner. He slouches back against Mickey’s dresser just enough that his chest muscles crease. He leans his head back too, closing his eyes.

And suddenly it’s like Mickey’s not even in the room with him. It’s like he’s home alone watching a shitty porn video on a nearly busted laptop one of his brother’s hocked a few years back. 

Very slowly, Mickey moves his right hand up his thigh, carefully letting his fingers graze his erection from where it’s hidden in his sweatpants. He repeats the motion a few more times, his touch getting only slightly rougher as he watches Ian pleasure himself.

Ian’s eyes flutter open slowly, a lazy grin spreads across his face.

Busted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really into these ~1000 word chapters for this story, sorry if they drive you nuts. I've already started the next chapter, hope to have it up this weekend. As always, feedback is greatly appreciated!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “It’s ok, I want you to” Ian tells him “I wanna know what you like.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really don't know how this happened. The original inception of this story was 'angst with a little fluff' and now here we are.

Mickey freezes, not knowing what to do next.

“It’s ok, I want you to” Ian tells him “I wanna know what you like.”

Mickey hesitates, knowing if he does this, he’ll be crossing over to a new level in their relationship he’s not sure he’s ready for: true intimacy.

“Please” Ian begs, gripping his cock and staring at Mickey like he’s the only boy he’s ever wanted. 

Mickey brings his hands to the waistband of his sweats as they move on autopilot. Following Ian’s lead, he tugs them down just far enough to pull out his dick, which is embarrassingly already leaking.

The second he starts playing with himself, he hears Ian make a pleased noise in the back of his throat. 

Mickey closes his eyes, fighting off the feeling of his cheeks reddening. But he soon realizes the reaction isn’t rooted in shame or embarrassment, but satisfaction. Ian taking pleasure in watching him was filling Mickey with a confidence he’s never felt before.

It made him feel sexy.

“You look so good, Mickey” Ian rasps from the other side of the bed.

Keeping his eyes closed, for fear of coming too fast, Mickey continues to jack himself off with one hand. He other hand slides under his tank top, idly playing with the soft skin of his stomach, before eventually traveling up to tease one of his nipples.

“I didn’t know you liked that,” Ian tells him, watching enraptured as Mickey bites down on his lip and squeezes his eyes closed tighter.

Mickey lets out a breathy laugh.

“You never asked,” he counters, squeezing his nipple hard enough to make himself gasp.

“Fuck” Ian swears, jerking his cock harder.

Mickey finds himself lost in the feeling, he slides back into a more reclined position, letting his bent legs fall open in clear invitation.

There’s a shift on the bed and suddenly Mickey’s opening his eyes to find Ian on his knees hovering over him, looking down at Mickey like a kid seeing his presents on Christmas morning. 

Ian lets go of himself long enough to help pull Mickey’s tank top off and throwing it off the bed. He runs his hands over Mickey’s bare chest, tugging each of his nipples between his forefingers and thumbs.

Mickey tenses up and lets out a delicious moan as the combination of pain and pleasure courses though him.

“You’re amazing” Ian tells him, bending forward to capture a nipple in between his lips, worrying the hard bud between his teeth.

Mickey gasps, his body rolling sensuously beneath Ian’s as they continue to jerk themselves off. 

“Gallagher, fuck” Mickey pants. 

To hell with his self-imposed no-touching rule, he thinks as his free hand slides through Ian’s hair. He tugs at the short hairs on his head while he arches his chest up against the other boy’s eager mouth.

“What are you thinking about?” Ian asks, his voice airy as he mouths at Mickey’s chest absently.

“You” Mickey gasps “You, you, you.”

Suddenly, Mickey’s hand is knocked away from his own dick. He almost cries out in protest until he feels Ian wrap his big hand about both of them, jerking them off together.

Mickey’s hands find their way to Ian’s hips, dragging his body closer to his own.

Ian falls forward, catching himself on his forearm, propping himself above Mickey.

Mickey grabs on to his bicep, secretly loving the feel of Ian’s muscles against his palm. He can’t remember the last time he was this turned on without having a dick in his ass. Or anything in his ass for that matter. 

Just when he thought he couldn’t get any hotter, Ian starts kissing a trail down Mickey’s torso, temporarily letting go of his own cock to focus on Mickey as he crouched between his bent knees.

Ian opens his mouth, tongue out, as he brings his face impossibly close to Mickey’s dick. He continues to jack Mickey off and waits, not moving to blow him. 

That’s when he realizes: he’s waiting for Mickey to make the move. Mickey, who already turned down his offer for a hummer once tonight.

Fucking Gallagher.

Gently, Mickey rolls his hips up just enough so that the head of his dick passes over Ian’s tongue. They both groan at the sensation. Mickey rolls his hips once, then twice more. Each time Ian’s wet tongue makes contact with his leaking head, he feels himself climbing faster to his release.

“Fucking close,” he gasps. 

He rolls his hips again but Ian’s mouth is gone. Suddenly, Ian has moved back to hovering right over him, his face now mere inches from Mickey’s. He’s jerking them off together once again, the feel of their hot flesh rubbing against the other driving them wild.

Just when Mickey thinks Ian’s about to kiss him, he moves his lips down to Mickey’s ear, whispering encouraging words.

“Do it, Mickey. I wanna watch you come undone. Wanna feel you come all over me” he rasps.

“Fuck fuck fuck” Mickey pants harshly before one last word passes his lips, “Ian.”

His body seizes up as his says the younger boy’s name and he feels himself explode so hard there are spots behind his eyelids.

Ian groans, glancing down at the mess Mickey’s made all over his hand, still stroking them together slowly. He milks Mickey’s orgasm out of his softening dick while his own remains hard as steel against it. 

Mickey whines when he becomes too sensitive, twisting his body slightly, signaling Ian to let his dick go.

Ian complies before gripping on his own cock harder, using Mickey’s come to beat off at an almost punishing speed.

“Mickey, god. You have no idea what you do to me” he pants. He’s up on his knees now, hand working double-time as he looks down at Mickey’s blissed out face. 

Mickey looks up at him, feeling completely wrecked and maybe a little too subspacey for his own good. He feels his arm move on it’s own accord as his fingers swipe across the drops of come on his stomach before bringing them to Ian’s hungry lips.

Ian sucks on his fingers like a starving man, humming around each digit like it’s the sweetest nectar he’s ever tasted. He grabs Mickey’s wrist, making sure he’s sucked off every drop he’s offered before moving his lips down to his pulse point, teeth gently biting at the soft flesh.

The primal sensation trips a wire or two in Mickey’s muddled brain and before he can even stop himself, he feels a quiet confession slip through his lips.

“Yours” he whispers.

That sets Ian off with a shout stuck deep in his throat. He shoots his load unapologetically on Mickey’s stomach, teeth still attached to his wrist as he does so.

When he’s done, he barely remembers to catch himself on his arms as he falls over onto Mickey, narrowly avoiding crushing the older boy.

“Shit” Ian whispers into Mickey’s neck.

“Yeah” he whispers back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I need a cigarette. How bout you?


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remember this? Feel free to hate me, I have zero excuses why this took so long, except the usual bullshit of work, being busy, and undisciplined.

It feels like ages since either boy has spoken.

“So” Mickey begins.

“So” Ian responds, sounding a lot more definitive that he is questioning.

It takes all of his strength to push himself off of Mickey and into the narrow space between the other boy and the wall. His head hits the pillow with a satisfied thud and a small smile creeps onto his face as the post-orgasm haze clouds his sense.

“Dude, you know you can’t fall asleep in my bed like this right? Especially with your dick still hanging out,” Mickey gruffs from beside him.

“Not sleeping, just resting my eyes,” Ian mumbles, half into the pillow as he rubs his cheek against it.

“Yeah, ok, sleeping beauty” Mickey says, “Maybe you should get out before we get caught.”

“Locked the door, remember?” 

Ian smiles bigger when he’s met with silence.

“Still” Mickey insists.

“Ok, fine, you party-pooper” Ian says before forcing himself to sit up. He tucks himself back into his boxers with a slight grimace before climbing over Mickey.

“Ey, watch the goods, Gallagher” Mickey tells him, as the other boy’s knee comes dangerously close to hitting him in the crotch. 

“Trust me, I do” Ian says. He reaches out to pat Mickey’s dick softly “Don’t I, little buddy?”

“If you refer to my dick as little one more time, I’m gonna cut yours off.”

“I think we both know you’d sooner cut off my head that hurt my dick, Mickey” Ian says with a wink before heading towards the bathroom.

“Can I borrow your toothbrush?” he calls out to Mickey.

“Fuck no” Mickey calls back. He reaches for tissues beside his bed, cleaning up the mess on his stomach with a grimace. 

When he hears the faucet run, he realizes his protest has fallen on deft ears.

“Fucking Gallagher” Mickey whispers to no one in particular. He tries to focus on this annoying development to distract himself from the mortifying realization that in his sexual haze, he managed to utter the word ‘yours’ to Ian like it fucking meant something.

It didn’t mean anything, it was just a stupid word that his lips formed without checking in with his brain first. 

But he did actually say it, and Ian registered it, based on his orgasmic reaction.

Mickey wonders how long it would be for Ian to bring it up and taunt him with it…maybe even use it against Mickey, finding a way extort further intimacy with him or something equally as terrifying.

There was also a small chance that Ian was so drunk he wouldn’t remember any of this in the morning. Not the ‘yours’ or the ankle-rubbing or the sad confession about his imaginary boyfriend…

Mickey isn’t sure how he feels about that, so he refocuses his brain to being annoyed with Ian. 

Annoyed at him for kissing Mandy, for stumbling into his room drunk, and for using his goddamn toothbrush.

But then Ian reemerges, looking suddenly sheepish, with his hair slightly askew from where Mickey was gripping it earlier. It is actually a pretty fucking adorable sight.

“What?” 

“I used your toothbrush” Ian tells him.

Mickey rolls his eyes.

“I figured that out on my own” Mickey replies.

“Guess I should go crash on Mandy’s bed” Ian says as he retrieves his discarded t-shirt off the floor “Really don’t feel like walking home right now.” 

“Just crash here.”

“I am, on Mandy’s bed” Ian repeats with furrowed brows.

Mickey can feel heat creeping up his cheeks as he props himself up slightly, trying his best to look casual.

“No, I mean, crash in here. In my room” Mickey offers.

Ian squints in confusion as he pulls his tshirt over his head.

“Why would I sleep on your floor when I can sleep in Mandy’s bed?” 

Jesus Christ.

“Jesus Christ, I mean you can sleep in my goddamn bed with me, ok?” Mickey lets out, exasperated beyond belief.

The offer hangs in the air as Ian continues to process his words.

“…Really?” 

“Offer’s only good for the next five seconds, so you better—” Mickey barely gets out his half-assed threat before Ian flips off the light and crosses the room in record time.

“Budge over” Ian tells him.

“Don’t tell me what to do” Mickey huffs as he scooches towards the wall. 

He half expects Ian to slide in right behind him and do something gay like spoon him, but to his surprise (and not at all his disappointment) Ian manages to keep a few inches of space in between them. 

“This is nice” Ian mumbles.

“First rule of sleeping in my bed, no talking” Mickey tells him.

“What’s the second rule?” 

Mickey can practically hear the grin on the other boy’s face.

“Don’t make me kick you, man,” Mickey says, shifting his body around under the guise of trying to get comfortable and not at all in a lame attempt to force their bodies closer together.

Ian doesn’t respond right away and for a scary moment, Mickey thinks the idiot may have passed out on him, which wasn’t his intention at all.

“I’ll probably kick you anyway at some point, on accident” Mickey says after a moment, “It’s a thing I do, I guess.”

“Oh yeah? Is that what your long line of past lovers told you?” Ian asks.

“Fuck off, no” Mickey says “My brothers. When I was younger there weren’t enough beds in the house, so we had to share. But they always complained I kicked in my sleep, so they made me sleep on the floor.” 

Ian snorts.

“That’s not very nice.”

“Yeah, well, family…ya know?” 

Ian makes a noise in response, breathing out of his mouth and tickling the hair on Mickey’s neck.

“How long did that go on for?”

“What, me sleeping on the floor? Couple years I guess” Mickey says easily, hating how easy it is to tell Ian this shit.

“Wait, are you serious? Your mom let them get away with that?” Ian asks, sounded suddenly alarmed.

“She didn’t know, man. She’d tuck me in next to Iggy every night and the second she left, they’d shove me off. I wasn’t some bitch who was going to cry to my mommy about it.”

Ian hand slides over Mickey’s shoulder, cradling his bicep.

“That’s really fucked up, I’m sorry, Mick.”

“It’s whatever. I’m just saying, if I kick you, you know why” Mickey tells him, now very determined to let the conversation drop.

A few more moments of silence roll by.

“Will you freak out if I try to spoon you?” Ian asks.

“Probably” Mickey says on instinct.

Ian retracts his arm.

“Thought so” Ian sighs, “Night, Mickey.”

He suddenly sounds so dejected that Mickey’s chest hurts a little. 

“For crying out loud” Mickey huffs.

Knowing he’ll regret this in the morning, Mickey gropes behind him for Ian’s arm. When he finds it, it pulls it over his body to hang past his hips.

“Happy?”

Instinctively, Ian tightens his arm around Mickey’s middle and pulls the other boy back so their bodies are flush together.

“You have no idea,” Ian whispers. 

Within seconds, Mickey can hear Ian’s breathing even out as he falls asleep.

The temptation to join him is strong, but Mickey forces himself to stay awake. Mostly because he doesn’t trust the lock on his door. But also because he doesn’t want to kick Ian in his sleep and give him a reason to let go.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Ian wakes up the next morning, he's very aware of three conflicting realities before he can even manage to open his eyes. One, he's got the worst fucking headache he can remember having in recent memory. Two, he's not in his own bed. Three, he smells freshly brewed coffee. That last part is probably the most baffling.

When Ian wakes up the next morning, he's very aware of three conflicting realities before he can even manage to open his eyes. One, he's got the worst fucking headache he can remember having in recent memory. Two, he's not in his own bed. Three, he smells freshly brewed coffee. That last part is probably the most baffling.

"Ey, wake the fuck up Gallagher" Mickey says, kicking Ian in the leg as he does so.

Ian groans noncommittally as he rolls on to his back.

"Yo Cinderella, I said rise and shine."

"Don't wanna" Ian whines.

"Tough shit, you gotta get up and outta here before Mandy wakes up" Mickey tells him, ploping down on the edge of the bed and rubbing Ian's ankle without thinking.

Ian frowns, pushing himself to his elbows and rubbing his face.

"Are you rubbing my ankle right now?"

Mickey freezes, retracting his hand immediately.

"No?"

"Sure felt like it" Ian says and he sits up fully. "Fuck my head feels like a thousand tiny men holding tiny hammers are banging away in there."

Ian looks around, realizing where he is for the first time.

"Shit, how the fuck did I end up in your bed?" Ian asked.

Mickey's stomach drops to his toes.

"You, uh, don't remember what happened last night?" He asks.

Ian squints for a moment, like the action could somehow conjure a play by play of the night before.

"Uh, I remember having a movie night with Mandy, getting drunk and a little out of hand. Then you came home at some point. We bantered a little, I think? Then things get real fuzzy."

Mickey watches Ian for a moment, trying to gauge if he's telling the truth.

“Real fuzzy?”

“The fuzziest” Ian confirms, "So uh, what'd I miss?"

"Not a whole lot else. Mandy passed out at some point, you came in here to piss, fell asleep on my bed. So I crashed in Iggy's room."

"Oh...I thought maybe..." Ian trails off “I mean, I’m in my boxers.”

“Yeah, well I don’t control what clothing you choose to sleep in when you're black out drunk. Anyway, you should prob hang out in Mandy's room until she wakes up. She finds you in here, she'll have questions neither of us want to answer."

"I wouldn't mind answering certain questions" Ian tells him, swinging his legs around to sit up fully.

"Yeah, well tough shit, not your sister, not your decision" Mickey says before unceremoniously shoving a cup of coffee into Ian's hands.

Ian's eyebrows shoot up in shock.

"You made me coffee?"

"Fuck you, I made myself coffee and decided to pour the leftover into another cup that I happen to be offering you." 

Ian watches Mickey for a puzzling moment, before letting a lazy smile spread across his face.

"You made me coffee" Ian say "You totally have a crush on me."

"Fuck right off" Mickey groans, standing up to put space between the two of them.

"It's ok, Mick. I like you too" Ian says before taking a sip of his coffee.

Mickey shakes his head in disbelief, at a loss for how he should even respond to that.

"You sure nothing else happened last night that I should know about?" Ian asks.

Images flash before Mickey's eyes, of Ian panting over him, of their cocks sliding together in Ian’s hand, of Ian biting down on inside of his wrist right before he came…

Mickey hastily pulls the sleeve of his shirt down over his wrist, covering the faint outline of teeth marks that hasn't quite managed to fade away yet.

"Besides me walking in on you slobbering on my sister when I got home, not really.”

Ian dissolves into laughter. 

"That sounds like something drunk!Ian would do. But hey, at least I got one Milkovich to make out with me, right?"

Mickey knows it’s a joke. It was a joke when he made it last night too, but it was sadder somehow. There was something resigned about the way he said it. Like he had already given up hope that the two of them would ever be something more. It made Mickey’s chest hurt, because last night felt special, like something had shifted between them. He thought they had gotten closer.

But Ian apparently doesn’t remember any of it.

"Whatever Gallagher" Mickey mumbles, looking down on the ground.

A few moments later, Ian shuffles over to Mickey, his feet bumping against his.

"Thanks for the coffee, Mick" Ian says quietly.

Then, ever so swiftly, Ian swoops down and kisses Mickey on the cheek softly.

"Ey!" Mickey tries to protest, but a smarmy-looking Ian has already made his way to Mickey's door. He sends him a wink, saluting him with his coffee mug before slipping out the door. 

Thirty minutes later, Mickey’s showered and ready for work. He slips on his Security jacket and heads into the kitchen, where Ian and Mandy are chowing down on Eggo waffles.

“Sleep well, princess?” He asks Mandy, who looks just as hung-over as Ian. 

She responds by flipping him off.

Mickey laughs, pouring from the fresh pot of coffee into a to-go cup. He’s about to put the pot down when at the last minute, he reaches over to refill Ian’s cup.

Ian clocks the motion quietly, not saying anything. 

"I gotta go run some errands before work. Gallagher, I’ll see you there later?" he asks.

"I’ll be in at 11” Ian tells him.

“Cool” Mickey throws over his shoulder before heading out the door.

"God I can't believe how fucked up we got on just beers last night" Mandy says.

"I know, it's pathetic" Ian replies.

"You know what I do remember. You talking about you secret boyfriend" Mandy says with a glint in her eye.

Ian laughs, "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah, the one that apparently is super affectionate and cuddly and calls you cute nicknames and makes you coffee in the morning, and a bunch of other cheesy shit that makes me wanna kill myself” Mandy says.

Ian laughs, suddenly remembering. 

"Oh yeah, him."

"Yeah, him” Mandy parrots, “You really not gonna tell me who he is?”

“I love you, but I’m really not” Ian says.

“Well, whoever this guy is? He sounds like a real sweetheart" Mandy tells him.

Ian smiles softly, bringing the coffee cup to his lips.

"He is."

 

THE END, FINALLY. Love you all.


	8. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Jesus, what did I do?” Ian finally lets out when the awkward silence becomes too much to bear.

“Jesus, what did I do?” Ian finally lets out when the awkward silence becomes too much to bear.

Mickey looks up from his magazine, confused.

“Uhh, I didn’t say anything?” he says.

“Exactly! You haven’t said a word since I got here. You just grunted in my general direction and went about your business. You stopped that tweaking junkie from stealing a donut earlier. Hell, you even started sweeping the floor without anyone asking!” Ian exclaims, exacerbated.

Mickey crosses his arms over his chest, defensive.

“Well excuse the fuck out of me for doing my job, Gallagher. Thought that was the whole reason I was here” Mickey says.

“It is, that’s my point! You’re never this good at your job. Usually you make fun of the way I stack cans or complain about how loudly I punch the keys on the register. Then when you’re tired of that, you make blowjob innuendos until I finally drag you back into the freezer. Today you can barely look at me” Ian explains “So I figure I must have done something really embarrassing or weird last night when I was drunk, and you’re too chicken shit to tell me what it was.”

Mickey rolls his eyes, groaning.

“I told you it was fine, nothing happened” Mickey says.

“Except, I kinda think something did. Either that, or I had a sex dream about you. Which, full disclosure, happens from time to time. But usually when I have a sex dream, about you or anyone else, I wake up covered in dried cum. And that didn’t happen this morning. Clean as a whistle.”

Mickey freezes.

“So again I ask, what did I do last night?” Ian asks.

“Jesus, fine” Mickey says, slapping his trashy magazine closed. “We fooled around, ok? I didn’t want to cause you were drunk and it seemed weird—and I really, really wouldn’t have let anything happen if I knew you were that fucking drunk cause now I feel like some kind of fucking pervert that took advantage of you.”

Ian furrows his brows.

“So, like, did I make you, or—“

“No! I mean, you were persistent. Took off your clothes and started jerking off in front of me like some kinda gay-for-pay twink…” Mickey says, trailing off when Ian’s eyebrows get impossibly higher, “But it was like…l mean, I liked it.”

Mickey can practically sense Ian’s initial mortification start to melt away, quickly being replaced with intrigue.

“Yeah?” Ian asks, looking up at him shyly.

“Yeah. And if you actually remembered doing it, I’d feel like lot less shitty about liking it so much” Mickey tells him.

But Ian seems a lot less interested in that detail than Mickey thought he’d be. Instead, he shrugs, moving to step around the counter and closer to Mickey.

“So, what did you do then? Did you just watch me or…”

“I uh, I did at first. Then I…you know, started participating” Mickey stutters, scratching his nose.

“Wait, so we watched each other jerk off?” Ian asks, grinning.

“Basically, yeah” Mickey confirms.

“Sounds hot” Ian says quietly, crowding Mickey’s space and messing with the hem of his tshirt, “Was it?”

Mickey shrugs defensively, determined to look anywhere but at Ian.

“Yeah, it was, you know, pretty ok” he says finally.

“Well that’s a relief. If it ended up being mind-blowing, I’d be pretty pissed I couldn’t remember it” Ian says, “Guess we should try it again sometime. Practice makes perfect.” 

Ian leans in then, a little too close for comfort, causing Mickey to push him away playfully.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say, Romeo” Mickey says “Now get back to work.”

Ian grins at that, tempted to call Mickey out on his newest nickname but deciding against it at the last second. He had a pretty good feeling after his talk with Mandy this morning, paired with Mickey’s weird silent treatment this afternoon, that Mickey may have overheard drunk!Ian say a thing or two about his imaginary boyfriend. 

Ian probably would have died of embarrassment at this realization, if not for a few key moments from that morning that came back to him. Mickey rubbing his ankle, like it was suddenly second nature to do so. Calling him ‘Cinderella’ then and ‘Romeo’ now. Bringing him coffee first thing when he woke up, then refilling his cup before he left. It was all suddenly so…domestic.

Ian laughs to himself quietly at the irony of the situation.

“Yo, Twinkle-toes, what are you smiling about over there?” Mickey asks.

Ian shakes himself out of his stupor, glancing up at the brunette.

“Nothing, Mick” Ian reassures him “I’m just happy.”

 

THE END, FOR REAL THIS TIME

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hated the idea that a few of you weren't happy with the ending, so I hope this makes up for it! Also, after a decent hiatus, I've started a new prom!AU that I'm hoping will go up in the near future :)


End file.
